


Dancing with a Demon

by FluffyGlitterPantsDragon



Category: Lucifer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: AU, Dean likes HOT chicks, F/M, No idea what season supernatural, PWP, Season 3 Lucifer, Sex, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, sexy crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 11:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15639534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyGlitterPantsDragon/pseuds/FluffyGlitterPantsDragon
Summary: Smut. Dean is on the road. Maze is on the road, bounty hunting. AU where Lucifer is a different Lucifer but I don't really know why.





	Dancing with a Demon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PiscesPenName](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/gifts).



> I just wanted to write these two having sexy times, and it's very likely not going to happen in 'Demon Summoning 101', since he knows she's a demon in that story. Also, that one isn't explicit.

Dean had been eyeing a cute blonde most of the night, but he didn’t give himself great odds of scoring with her. She was giggling a little too hard over another guy who had already been buying her drinks. He was pretty good at the swooping in and stealing a pretty girl, but at this point in the evening, there were a few other options too. A decent lay would help him get his mind off the frustration with the job when the job was sitting around and waiting. It usually did, anyway.

Tonight had been unfolding no different than most others on the road. Racking up a little extra cash in a game, sleeping in a shitty motel, getting back on the road in the morning. He had a long drive ahead of him too.

His evening looked decidedly better when  _ she _ walked in. All low-cut black leather and badassery from head to toe. She pushed into the bar, ringing herself in standing cigarette smoke and outdoor porch light and immediately owned every man in the room. Maybe the few women too. It was one of those moments that happened in slow motion, she made an entrance, and everyone turned to look. She dismissed all of them with a measured glance; a quick threat assessment that took all of a second or two. Dean thought she gave him a second pass, but her expression remained unreadable - perhaps a quirk of the lip but then it was gone again if it had even been there. 

Dean measured her too when she cleared the threshold. Possibly as someone in his line of business, or at least adjacent to it. A tiger on a hunt, the woman had the look of someone on a mission. Law Officer (doubtful), bounty hunter, or possibly even his own profession, Hunting. He thought he knew everyone who hunted the evil supernatural, but this was Canada, and it was a big world. In any case, he wouldn’t bet against the air of confidence she threw off like a smoke bomb. She had to be concealing  _ something _ sharp and pointy under her layers of leather, or his instincts had turned sour. Given his current run of luck, however, it was possible he wasn’t at the top of his game. 

Either way, he definitely wanted to spend some time tonight with her.

Sam had gone the short way, staying south of the Canadian/U.S. border, hoping to pinch their prey between the two of them like the legs of a cheap hooker. Unfortunately, the thing they hunted hadn’t shown hide nor hair of appearing, frustrating their attempts to pin it down to one area. The monster was on the move. Whatever it was escaped most of their attempts to track it, knowing only that it seemed to be passing through the barren landscape of North Dakota and heading west. Thus the plan to head it off, which was working about as well as herding  _ invisible _ cats with a dozen clown horns.

Cooling his heels and just waiting around for news was Dean’s least favorite pastime - that and getting eaten by hellhounds. 

Dean went back to winning his current pool game. With an easy shot, his cue ball cracked into the next in line, garnering the attention of tall, dark and sexy. 

Dean only passed her first weeding out of the chaff by not crowding her. He gave her the cursory glance he scanned everyone with, then went back to pool hustling. Dean knew when flattery and flirting worked, and when it didn’t. The signals she threw off told him to let her come to him if she wanted to. She wasn’t his target, and neither was he hers. She was out hunting, like him, and her prey was not in evidence here. He didn’t know if that meant his kind or something else, but her body oozed determination and screamed ‘loner.’ So he left her alone. Either she would stay and look for company, or she wouldn’t.

His hope ticked up a little when she sauntered in his general direction and waited out the current game. He stopped thinking about the blond from before when she unzipped her jacket.

He won, sinking his targets perhaps a smidge faster than he intended, maybe showing off - just a little. Maybe. A black-clad hip in tight leather leaned on the table. Black painted nails shined under dingy lights where her hand rested on the solid wood edge. Her black eyes reflected very little, flat and appraising. “Game?”

He looked up, shuffling the cash the disgruntled loser left behind. Said loser threw her a look that started warm then cooled when she glared at him. Dean threw down a twenty out of the small pile he’d collected - American. Sensing a different kind of game, he picked up the rack. “Sure. Eight?”

He felt himself earn a few points in her eyes by not asking personal questions. She picked up a cue from the wall. “Pass the chalk.”

Dean tossed it over the table to her. They sensed the hunter in each other. She smiled, just slightly, precisely the right amount of curve to her lips to acknowledge his assessment of her in turn. She pulled a twenty out of her bra, tossing it on his money, also American. For a split second, she held the cue as if it were a weapon, fist closing around it to test the balance. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he might not have noticed. She tensed for a split-second, then her hand relaxed, her whole body assuming ‘normal person playing a friendly game stance.’ This was a mask he knew well.

Hell, she might even know something about this thing they were hunting. Dean shook his head with a half-smirk and racked up.  _ Stop thinking about work already _ . “Your break.”

She brushed her slightly wavy black hair away from her face and shed her black leather jacket, revealing a tight, fitted top that hugged her curves like a lover. She broke the first round with precision, surprising no one. “Something funny?” Her eyes flicked at him, but that was all. Curious, nothing more. 

Dean set the butt of his stick on the floor. “Just tryin’ to decide if I should offer to buy you a beer or if you’ll take my head off for it.”

“Play first. Then I’ll let you know.”

Dean knew he would lose this round. But he might win in the long run. He followed her moves, took his turn, and  _ almost _ didn’t stare at her ass when she leaned a bit over the table. Her shoulders were amazing too. Looking back at him, she smirked with a languid stretch. “I was starting to wonder if you weren’t into women.”

He smiled wolfishly, taking the comment as an opening. “I can only look at your ass for so long before I get too distracted to play.”

She nodded, deliberately looking him up and down as if she hadn’t already weighed and measured him with an expert eye. “So, that’s why you’re losing? Wanna beer?”

He shrugged like he didn’t care. He wouldn’t fall over himself offering to pay if she wanted to buy the first round. He’d get the second. “Sure.”

He lost the first game and did buy the second round.

She played with him, stalking him from across the table with non-questions and appraising glances. 

He caught her looking at his ass too. 

On game two, he finally broke down. “I’m Dean, Winchester.”

She nodded. “Dean. Who are you hunting?”

Dean couldn’t stop himself from skipping a beat, cursing himself for it. Without thinking, he answered; “More like a  _ what _ .”

“Sneaky bastard? Mine too. I had been wondering who had been picking up my bounties.” She glared without heat. But if he was taking her bounties, Dean had a feeling he’d be paying for it later. 

“Sorry, sister, not me, but I’m flattered. This isn’t my usual hunting area. We run further south and east.” 

She grunted. “Maze. And I hope you don’t look at your sister the same way you’re eyeballing me. Not that’d it be any of my business, but still, weird.”

Dean, relieved to finally get a name out of her, pushed his luck. Not a Hunter name he'd heard of before, but it did sound like one, maybe a nickname. “Maze? Okay, that’s a new one. Short for anything?”

She huffed but answered. “Mazikeen.”

He missed his shot, the ball bouncing over the target and careening off a side wall with an inartful arc. She raised an eyebrow in a way that had to be well-practiced. “Problem?”

Someone walked over his grave.  _ Okay, she is definitely not a Hunter _ . It’d make a hell of an ironic name, but it’s not a nickname  _ he’d _ ever tempt fate with, either. He scratched his neck. “It’s just very unusual, that’s all.”

“You look like you're chewing on a lemon. Spill.” Her stare went cold. “You heard of me?”

Dean grunted. If he did ‘spill’, he foresaw his odds of getting laid tonight going downhill faster than a snowball melting in Hell. “It’s nothing.”

Her expression dropped a few degrees more, which he didn’t think would be possible. “If you want to yell it later tonight under me, you better tell me what the deal is with my name.”

_ Damned if you do _ ...he shrugged _.  _ “Anyone tell you it’s term for a type of demon? In mythology.”

She didn’t look overly surprised at the revelation itself, but perhaps his knowledge of it. Her smile reminded him unpleasantly of a viper. “Well, you certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet, don’t you?”  _ So much for getting lucky. Oh well. _

He went for broke. “I just pick up things here and there. My brother knows more about that stuff, but he’s not here. Talking to hot chicks about demonology isn’t my go-to move. But you said spill, and I get the feeling you’re a woman not to be played with.”

Her eyes went from narrow to somewhat more relaxed. Her lips softened, and she licked them, nodding. “Good, cause you still have a shot with me. I’d hate for you to go and ruin it by going all  _ Stargate _ on me.”

_ Back in the ballgame.  _ “Not a sci-fi fan?”

“Nah, my ex-boss is though. I don’t want to talk about him. I take these bounty hunting jobs to put some space between us.”

Dean tipped his beer at her. “I’d offer to go kick his ass, but you don’t look like you need any help.”

Maze grinned a little. “I don’t. You look like you could put up a good fight, assuming you aren’t all talk and good looks.”

_ Wait, who was hitting on who? _ Dean gave her his best heartbreak smile. “I can be scrappy, despite my pretty features.” He blinked at her, showing off his stupidly long lashes that he happened to know were a favorite among women, for whatever reason. If the fairer sex liked them, who was he to argue?

She snorted at the quip, missing her shot. “Your brother is your hunting partner? Mythology come up much when you go after your bounties? Or is that a hobby?”

“Now and again. More his than mine. I do the physical heavy lifting; he does the mental. We make a good team. How about you? Bounty hunting you said?”

“No one interesting right now. Some asshole who skipped bail. Should be somewhere around here. Pays the rent...no  _ demonology _ required.” She drawled that last line like it meant more to her than her casual tone let on.

“Yeah? Around here? I’d offer to take you back to my place, but it’s next door at the shitty motel.”

“Not here, no. I pay my rent down in L.A.. ‘Fraid the shitty place will have to do. I’m sure I’ve seen worse.”

“It’s not so bad if you don’t mind waking up to a roach the size of a hamster.” The comment would put off almost any other woman, but he had a feeling about...Maze.

She awarded him an evil smile. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

Bitch made him slip on his next shot, making him narrowly lose this round too. Luckily for him, they had stopped playing for money. 

* * *

 

Maze shoved him through the door of his room with a smile on her face. She did not expect to get this lucky this trip - good-looking humans were hard to come by in her rough-shod travels. And this  _ Dean _ made quite the specimen. Even if he was peculiar.

She’d have to ask around about these Winchester’s. Maybe find a way to lure them further west to make regular playthings of them. Somehow though, she thought that Dean might not be the playing type. He was all hard-nosed and serious, always looking over his shoulder at everything in the bar but doing it without fear. He appraised every human as threat or non-threat, the same thing she did. His rating system was not restricted to gender either. He didn’t let his guard down around her, even after he suggestively waved his motel key. He was more than ready for a tumble in the hay, but he didn’t take her for granted either.

Green-eyed and built like a brick house, he held more than an average share of model-quality features. The jeans he wore outlined his butt very nicely and even his long bow legs were cute in a weird way. She grabbed his ass outside the bar and growled deep in her throat. This one would be a very fun ride.

Hands grabbed her ass, and she let them. 

Maze explored him in turn, yanking his soft flannel off his broad shoulders. Hard, muscular arms corded under her hands. She bet he had washboard abs for days.

Damn, he was  _ built _ for fun.

She kicked the door closed, hard enough to echo. The slam reminded her to pull her punches, at least a little. Most men got all intimidated if she revealed herself to be stronger than them. Dean looked the type to put up his hackles if she overplayed her hand. 

For the first time in a very long time, she had a decent dance partner. 

She planned to ride him hard and put him up wet.

Dean didn’t notice or didn’t care about the door. His hands groped her breasts through her shirt, pinching her nipples through layers of clothing. She gave him a growling gasp, so he went harder, pleasant pain shocking down her breasts, urging her on. She wanted to play, and he was eager to follow her lead. If she wanted more, he would give it to her. In spades.

She wanted the lights on for this one. If he was half as well built as he felt, she had to find a way to stuff him in a bag and steal him.

When she pushed him, he tested her by pushing back. She smiled against his mouth, catching and biting his lip. Still in her heeled boots, she practically threw him down on the squeaky bed, bouncing on him. Hard under her already too.

He started to grab for her shirt, but she gripped his wrists and slapped his hands on her ass instead, holding him there on her with an iron grip. “Can you be a good boy Dean?”

Dean cupped her ass and gave her a solid squeeze. Through jeans, he bucked up, hard. “Good, bad, what’s the difference?”

Maze responded by grinding her hips into him with a firm rolling motion. “A good boy gets his cock sucked.”

Hips worked hers with mounting pressure. “Is that all, sweetheart? What’s a bad boy get?”

Oh, she liked him. She slid her hands under his soft t-shirt. She purred at the muscle definition she found there. “Bad boys get spanked. Sometimes they get drilled too.”

He stilled and bit his lip, but his erection didn’t go anywhere. “Fuck. Sorry, hon, I’m an exit only kinda guy. Speaking for myself.”

Well, she could work with that. “Spanking it is. I hope you’re as good in bed as you look.” She crossed her arms over her head, pulling off her slinky top. It sparkled and gave low clinking sounds as it came off, hitting the ground with a strange dull thunk. Dean looked over the side of the bed, curious. The edge of a small holster poked out of it. How the lines lay hidden against her body, he would never know. He looked back, and she was unstrapping a knife from under her bra band. He sat up a little.

She snorted. “This might take a while, ‘sweetheart,’ I have an arsenal.”

Dean popped his jeans. “Will you explode if I touch you wrong?”

Maze smiled evilly. “Don’t touch me wrong and you won’t have to find out.” She pulled up the edge of his shirt.

“Yes, ma’am.” He leaned up in an effortless crunch so she could pull his t-shirt off. She did with a grin, throwing it off to a sad corner of the motel room. She ran a hand through his short brown hair, teasing his neck with her fingernails. 

She licked her lips slowly. “Damn. Maze likes.” She dropped her hand to his chest to trace his flame edged tattoo. It was small, with symbols she thought he recognized along with the five-point star in the center. “Pentagram?”

Dean shrugged. “Sam and I got matching tattoos. Looked like an interesting design - brother thing. Does yours mean anything?”

She looked down at her arrow tattoo with a casual shrug. “Nah.” She swiveled off his middle to pull off her boots on the edge of the bed.

Dean appreciated her ass while she did so. “Damn, yourself.”

She kicked off one high-heeled boot, staring back at him flatly. “How’s that?”

“Your ass, woman. I want to bite it.”

Maze smiled slowly. She wiggled her other boot off, then standing and facing away from him, unbelted her pants. 

“Oh, do I get a show too?”

“Only if you ask nicely.” She unzipped her pants. Her ponytail swung over her shoulder with an evil look in her eye. 

Dean swallowed, hard. 

Maze enjoyed his attention. His brilliant green eyes darkened to mossy emerald. He propped himself up on his elbows, hunger evident in every visible line of his gorgeous body. He had a few scars here and there, more than your average human, certainly, enhancing her interest in his past, but not enough to play the ‘how’d you get that?’ game. He looked like he could, and did, get laid on a nightly basis, but his eyes devoured her curves like he’d seen nothing like her before. 

Which, he hadn’t, but he didn’t know that.

He took a hard breath in, meeting her eye over her shoulder. “Pretty please? With sugar on top?”

“You mean a cherry?”

“Sugar. Cherry. Waffles. Whatever.”

She turned down the band of her pants, slowly sliding them down her ass and thighs. Dean held his breath. Tight, they came down with a soft peeling sound, sticking between her legs and knees. She had to bend over to get them down off her ankles. She knew exactly what she looked like at that angle, legs slightly apart, her string thong slipping to the side. The thin black fabric of her panties curving up her womanhood. 

Dean made a fully incoherent noise in the back of his throat. 

Maze rewarded him by backing up to the edge of the bed. He leaned over and hooked her thong with his teeth. She stepped out of it, turned and straddled his stomach with sure motions. 

He slid his hands up her back, playing with her bra straps. “Mmmm. May I?”

_ Oh good. He knew how to play games. _ She rocked her hips on his abs, rolling against his taut muscles under her dampness. “Are you going to be a good boy and suck my tits?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She licked her fingers, dragging them down her body, over her slender waist and lower. He followed them like a target, licking his lips. He was a good boy, waiting for her command. She reached behind, cupping him firmly in his jeans. She liked what she found, so she pressed lightly, through the material.  

“Mmm. Then you may.”

Dean popped her bra eagerly, his hands slipping around her breasts under it before it was even off. The straps fell off her shoulders. Dean pulled her down, the black bra falling on his head as he brought his teeth and lips into play. She allowed him to pull her, getting impatient herself. 

His body felt  _ great.  _ Even his legs through the jeans felt hard muscled like his abs under her. 

His lips and face took over attention of one breast, freeing a hand to pinch her ass. He sucked her nipple hard enough to feel it in the back of her teeth, and she hummed approval. His breath came out hot on her, his tongue soothing and playing. His eyes flicked up to hers, and he bit lightly, testing, scraping his teeth on her hardened peak. 

Maze unzipped him and slid her hand in his jeans. He pushed up against her fingers, rocking and seeking relief. Her thumb came down, sweeping over his head, and he bucked with a low groan. She rode the motion with a grin, feeling his layers of strength and heat under her. 

He had a nice voice too. Rough-edged and rustic. Dean was just what she needed right now, hard, hung and willing to please. If she read him right, willing to go all night too. 

She lifted her hips. Dean took it as permission and pulled his jeans off, tugging them down off his ass, dragging his boxers down to the base of his cock where they caught. The action pulled his dick upright, pressing against his remaining fabric. The whole time he hadn’t removed his hot, wet lips from her breast.

She scooted back enough to let him rub against her, just outside, giving him a taste. Dean broke suction as she moved away, keeping both his hands busy again on her and tossing the bra off the side. He kicked the jeans off the end of the bed. Maze took a moment to appreciate his hips. Rare was the man with a real Apollo’s belt, and Dean already should be in sexy firefighter calendars. She slid her fingers down the furrows of his defined “V’ until they met just above his underwear. 

Dean seemed content to let her look, palming the tops of her thighs to her hips. His thumbs edged over the top of her legs where the loops of her thong had been. Her own arms were in the way, so he stroked her sides, up her ribs and the sides of her breasts. He shifted, becoming impatient. He tried pushing his dick against her, still covered by thin cotton. 

Maze hooked her fingers of both hands under his underwear band, teasing the dark hair straining to escape. “You prefer a condom?”

He blew out, his eyes snapping up to her face like he forgot where he was. “If you’re on the pill, we can skip it.” He bit his lip. “But you aren’t my first rodeo either, hon.”

She leaned down to kiss him, catching his lower lip in hers. “Something like a pill. You don’t have anything to worry about.” Like Lucifer, she couldn’t carry or transmit diseases. Along with immortality, it made for a nice perk. It was nice of Dean to care though. Maze pressed the length of her torso against him, threading her hands through his hair again. 

She felt herself heating up, moving against his hard length. One of his hands moved between them, angling for her. She leaned back up, letting him touch her arousal, coating his fingertips with her. She tugged his boxers the rest of the way off, freeing him, finally. Dean’s thumb joined his fingers, circling her clit. 

Maze rocked against him, pleased. She wasn’t anywhere close, but she liked his initiative. Coherent thought started to huddle at the back of her brain as his attention on her increased. Dean drew up his fingers and back, massaging her wetness into lubrication under his thumb. She actually slipped a little, then kept moving against him. He grinned up at her, full, sexy smile assuring her he knew exactly how to please her. 

It turned her on more than she expected, hot ride or not.   

Her heat coiled. 

His paired fingers curled slightly, rubbing just against her g-spot. 

Maze slipped back, smiling. Her eyes on his like lasers, her mouth came down around his cock for a little warm up. She wanted to taste him, and she was not disappointed. Dean kept eye-contact until he couldn’t, arching up against her mouth. 

Also like Lucifer, she had no gag reflex. She could take a throat fucking when she was in the mood for it. Today was not that day, but she still enjoyed him. She had complete mastery over her teeth and tongue, using the latter to great effect. Dean groaned. When she didn’t pull back immediately, he tested her limits, rising off his ass as her lips clutched him wetly. 

“Oh, God.”

_ If only you knew. _ The corners of her full lips turned up slightly, and she managed to make eye contact again. Dean got lost quickly, hands fisting the shabby sheets. One came up to finger her ponytail, and she growled. He correctly interpreted that as an instruction, so he pulled, lightly at first. 

She found herself moaning around him. He hardened further under her. The hair under her lips tasted recently clean, and he smelled  _ good _ , soap and spice. He pulled out her hair tie, bringing up both hands to grip near her scalp. He didn’t yank, just added pressure until she grunted. He stopped, not releasing but not pulling any harder. 

She leaned up with a pop of her lips around him. Dean’s breath came short. He breathed hard through his nose, watching her curiously. Maze leaned over her breasts over his face. She wrapped her hands around his strong wrists, pushing them up behind his head. He grinned up at her and held them under the pillow, reversing his grip and holding the bottom edge of the headboard behind them.  She yanked out the pillow and threw it on the floor. She wanted to see his arms. Dean arched under her, faking vulnerability with a long body stretch under her, holding his hands in place. 

She would have liked to tie him up, but that would mean getting off him. And he knew what she wanted. She let go, her hair falling across his face. He didn’t budge, aside from the tendons in his wrists flexing from palm to elbow. She kissed him hard and hot, her wetness meeting her saliva on his dick.

Maze walked her hands down his body, finally settling herself on him, poised to fill herself with him. Dean flexed the base of his cock, proving he had muscle definition and control  _ everywhere _ . 

Mmmpf. Her fingers came down, sliding herself apart. He breathed, watching her, rolling his incredibly sexy hips. She gave them both relief, sinking on him with a mutual sigh. Maze smiled and flexed herself, contracting her kegel muscles around him. Bracing herself but not using her hands, she rocked on him. Dean lay back, timing his thrusts with her smaller motions, but otherwise letting her have the reins. 

She thought she would miss those green eyes. 

The springs under them began to creak in rhythm. 

He slid against her sensitive spots. An arm quivered once, but then stayed locked in place under his head. Mossy green eyes didn’t leave her dark, and she smiled. She crossed her arms over her head, raising her breasts, arching her back and riding him with her core muscles alone. 

He twitched under her, matching her increasing pace. Dean pulled his legs up at just a slight angle, cradling his thighs under her ass. He lifted against her, giving her more depth.

Maze took it. She fluttered her slickness around him, enjoying his deep, full hardness in her. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back with a breathy “...Dean… “ She didn’t think she’d give him that much, but he was earning it. 

She felt him twitch again, then lie back, shifting his grip on the headboard but not abandoning it. She imagined his knuckles going white under the strain of not moving them but wanting to reach for her.

He threw his hips up into her with a hard string of contracted bucks.

She gasped. She didn’t usually come from deep stimulation, but he was getting her there. 

He groaned under her, and the first hints of sticky sweat began to build between them. Maze brought her hands to his abs, feeling the hard muscles contracting. His eyes came up on her again, watching her face. 

A moment later, he found the signal he looked for, shifting his hips to a rolling gait that buried him in her on longer strokes. His jaw clenched. She felt his release mounting, and he held it back for her. 

Oh, she really needed to find a way to keep him in her rounds when she came up this way. 

She gripped with her calves against his thighs, breath building to a harder pace. Her mount bucked hard, giving her a grin with white teeth and hooded eyes. His head hit just the right spot now, repeating hard thrusts to the very back of her vag, and she found herself on the verge of begging him to keep it up. 

She closed her eyes, her head back, aching for her throbbing release - it came closer and closer. Her black hair bounced in sync with the creaking bed, the headboard starting to thud dully against the wall. She bit her lip, hard, pinching his nipples. 

She wanted him in her ass next. 

Her lip twisted, picturing the hard cock under her in both places, filling her deeply. 

A little added pressure with her own hand left her reaching her peak rapidly. Her lower pelvis contracted, just beginning to throb hard, seeking the edge. 

Still, he held off, his eyes on her breasts, then looking away and half-closing, biting his tongue between his teeth. 

Her breath caught on those long lashes, the hint of darkening green under low-lidded eyes. Surprising herself, and him, she leaned to kiss him. Tongues met, and he lifted his hands to cup her face as she rode him to her completion. His lips smiled under hers. A hand braced on her hip. Her hair fell around his face, hanging and brushing in passes as he kept up the hard rhythm for her.

He surprised her again with an extended coming, building and releasing her in succession, his fingers probing her clit as she throbbed around him, pressing on the pulse and she started to ebb, spiking her back up to a tumbling fall again.

She stopped counting, her head and body electric with a rushing and racing pulse. 

Maze remembered how to breathe, coming back to herself on her side, finding she missed his finale. 

Dean stroked her hair.  _ Stroked _ . 

She blinked. 

It was still night - she hadn’t embarrassed herself by passing out all night. Maze squeezed her thighs, finding residual wet stickiness from him. Green eyes swam into her vision. “Okay?”

_ Dammit.  _

“Yeah. Shit.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest pleasantly. “You fell off the ride. I almost got worried.”

Maze growled. “I’m making a cast of your dick in the morning. You’re coming back with me one way or another.”

He had the nerve to laugh. “Does that mean you’re staying? I’ve got a few knives to sharpen over breakfast if you want cold toast and greasy eggs at the diner. And if that’s not enough temptation, there’s this rat-eaten itchy blanket.”

She sighed. He passed her a box of tissues. 

What she should do was climb out of bed, shower and ride off into the sunset. 

Goddamn humans.

She roughly yanked some tissues out of the box. “The coffee better have an oil slick on top.”

He had some kind of weird necklace she didn’t notice before. It slid across his stupidly well-defined clavicle as he turned on his side to face her. “I don’t drink it any other way. I don’t know what you’re driving, but I can drive us over in the morning.”

“In what shitty ride would that be?”

“The one other good thing I have in my life besides my brother is our dad’s Impala.”

“That’s  _ your _ ‘67 out there?” If she had functional ovaries, they just did a flip.

Dean grinned brightly. “Yup. Ever have sex in one?”

Maze glared at him, but she was out of reasons to get up and leave. “Well, not in  _ that _ Impala. You want to introduce us?”

He gestured at the door. “After you.” 


End file.
